


I Will Be Chasing Your Starlight

by musicgirl373



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 00:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicgirl373/pseuds/musicgirl373
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma and Killian had known and loved each other for years, only to be separated by circumstance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Be Chasing Your Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is a No Curse, Modern Day Storybrooke AU. It'll be multiple chapters and I might add to the summary as it goes. The title is a lyric from Starlight by Muse. Thanks to Sydney (jollyrogerjayhawk on tumblr) for the beta. Enjoy!

“Give it back you stupidhead!” Emma yelled as she ran behind Greg and tried to get the swan necklace her mother had given her for her birthday back from him. She had told her mom that when she got it, she would never take it off, never ever ever. Of course though, wearing a necklace is annoying when you’re trying to hang upside down from the monkey bars and it’s hitting you in the face. So, she had taken it off and hung it around the pole where it met the ladder.

She went back to her spot upside down on the bar, watching the whole world turn on its head and wondering why everyone wasn’t falling off the face of the planet. She was alone on the bars like she was every day. Then that buttface took it. So what did she do? She chased him around the playground of course, not looking or caring what direction they were headed. Pretty soon, they were off the school grounds themselves, going into a small wooded area behind it.

She ran as fast as her short legs would take her, ignoring the fading shouts of teachers yelling at her to stop behind her. She was starting to think that she would never get her beloved necklace back, when something red flew through the air and hit him on the head, slowing him down. She took action, quickly catching up to him and springing onto his back. He fell to the ground face first, turning his head so his cheek was against the dirt and she promptly rubbed it in while reaching for the necklace in his hand.

She leaned as far as she could and was finally able to snatch up the necklace chain while laying her torso on his arm, her legs stretched out behind her on his back, effectively immobilizing him. She pulled and pulled but he wouldn’t let go. She was just about to punch him in the shoulder blade to make him, when she was abruptly pulled off of him and set on the ground, facing her teacher and the principal, who had both finally caught up with them.

“What on earth is going on here?!” Mrs. Nolan said sharply, exasperated. Life is always difficult and annoying in a small town, but none more than when your mother is your teacher and your father is the sheriff.

Emma looked from her mother to the principal, Mrs. Morris--a short, stout woman with thinning gray hair pulled in a tight bun, who only ever muttered a couple of monosyllabic words whenever she deemed to talk--as Greg hopped back to his feet, rubbing the back of his head and looking diagonal towards the tree tops. He stretched his limbs out with both of his hands fisted.

“Well?” Mrs. Morris barked, causing all three of them to flinch. Emma said nothing with her face stoic, though Greg on the other hand was perfectly fine with speaking up.

“She attacked me! She was chasing me through the woods and then she jumped on my back and started hitting me!” He even added a tear for effect.

 _The phony_ , Emma thought.

Mrs. Nolan seemed to believe him though, it wasn’t the first time that Emma had done something like this.

“Emma, is this true?” she asked her carefully.

“He stole my necklace,” she said in a small voice, not really looking at any of them.

“What? No I didn’t!” Greg was yelling at this point. Mrs. Nolan looked at him, keeping her face as unbiased as possible. She looked at his fisted hands. He noticed and immediately threw both of them behind his back.

“What do you have in your hands, Greg?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he answered too quickly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Show us,” Mrs. Morris grunted. People often wondered why (and how) she became a principal at an elementary school of all places. She was mean to most of the students and scared almost everyone. Greg was no exception, who at this point was as white as the fluffy clouds above them. He shook his head vigorously.

“Greg, please show us,” Mrs. Nolan was a bit more gentle. It was difficult for him to resist that, so finally he brought his hands back around and opened them, the right one revealing the necklace. Emma started.

“See! See! I told you he took it!” she said, excited that she was most likely going to be let off the hook. Mrs. Nolan took the necklace out of Greg’s hand and she and Mrs. Morris turned away, talking amongst themselves. Greg glared at Emma and she returned it with a smug look, sticking her tongue out at him.

The two women turned back to them, their decisions made. Mrs. Nolan was the one who spoke, while Mrs. Morris just scowled at them.

“Greg, Emma. As far as Mrs. Morris and i are concerned, both of you are at fault. Greg, it was wrong that you took Emma’s necklace and Emma, you should have come told one of us and let us handle it, rather than resorting to violence. As such, both of you will be receiving punishment. Two weeks, no recess and during that time you will be joining me in the classroom to do worksheets.”

They both stared back at her with anger and shock.

“But--” they both started.

“No buts,” she answered sternly, “and this is not to happen again. Is that understood?” Her tone brooked no argument.

“Yes Mrs. Nolan,” they both said sullenly, heads bowed.

“Good, now come along, recess is just about to end,” she said. They all started walking back, Mrs. Morris roughly yanking Greg with her, when Mrs. Nolan held Emma back.

“We’ll talk about this more at home with your father, Emma,” she said softly, her eyes conveying her disappointment. Emma looked at her feet the entire way back to the school. She didn’t look back, not even when she thought she heard a slight rustle in the trees above her. And no one noticed the small red ball that had been left behind.

***

All Killian had wanted was to spend a quiet, peaceful recess up in his favorite tree in the woods behind the playground. Today he had brought with him a red rubber ball to play with (and also to keep himself awake, the last time he had fallen asleep hadn’t ended well). What he hadn’t wanted was an interruption, especially not from some silly, immature third graders (he was in sixth grade, far superior).

So when he heard yelling and the sound of two running feet, he was more than a little annoyed. He leaned down out of the tree to observe his surroundings and saw a boy being chased by a small blonde girl and she was yelling at him to give something back. He didn’t know what it was, but it seemed like he was going to outrun him. He decided that if he was going to be interrupted, he might as well make it entertaining. But predictable isn’t entertaining.

_Let’s spice things up._

He took his ball, tossed it slightly up and caught it again, aiming his shot. And he threw it. It hit the boys head with a satisfying thump, slowing him down. The blonde girl jumped on his back, knocking him down.

Good form, as his brother Liam would say.  

He continued watching as she tried to reach for her necklace but was plucked from the boy’s back by the principal, who had arrived with one of the teachers. He wasn’t sure who the boy was, but he instantly recognized the little blonde girl as Emma Nolan, his neighbor who lived down the street from him. Both of them gave the two kids a stern talking to before heading back towards the school. He had managed to stay completely still throughout the whole ordeal, only moving to lean back to his comfortable spot among the branches. No one had noticed him.

He hopped down for the tree after he was sure they were gone, retrieved his ball and walked back to the school. He wondered if the little girl had even noticed him helping her. Probably not, but that was okay. He felt good helping her anyway. He smirked to himself and kept walking, as the bell rang out signaling that recess was over.

***

“You just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?” Greg had caught her when school was let out, walking next to her while trying to get in front of her. Her mother had to stay behind to finish up some things, as usual, and since their home was only a couple of blocks away, she always let Emma walk back on her own. Normally, she went without bother; since the town was so small and she had grown up with everyone, it was like having a village of people walk her home all at once. But today, of course, was different.

“Leave me alone,” she muttered, continuing to walk, her pace more brisk. She thought about whacking him with her pink backpack, and just running off, but he cut in front of her. He got in her space and when she would try to move around him he would just go in the same direction, blocking her.

“Move!” but he wouldn’t. He towered over her.

“Now both of us are in trouble! You should have just kept QUIET!” he yelled in her face.

“Leave her alone!” called a voice, one she had heard only a few times before. Greg turned his head up and Emma looked over her shoulder. A boy with dark hair and blue eyes came up the street. Killian. He was her neighbor, but she had never really played with him or known him other than seeing him around school a couple of times.

“Who are you?” Greg asked, annoyed more than angry.

“I’m Killian. I don’t care what your name is. Now leave her alone,” he answered, coming to stand by her. She noticed for the first time that he talked a bit funny, like he wasn’t from here.

At this point, Emma just wanted to get home so she could curl up in her bed with her favorite storybook and forget the day had ever happened. She didn’t know what to do, except hit Greg again, but that would only get her in even more trouble with her parents if they ever found out. But desperate times called for desperate measures. So she stepped on his foot as hard as she could.

Greg went down, sitting on the ground and holding his foot while Killian burst into laughter. She walked around a whining Greg and turned her head to see that Killian was flicking him on the back of the head. She couldn’t help but giggle.

“What did you do that for?” she asked him as he walked toward her.

“I don’t know, cuz I could? He’s an idiot,” he answered, still grinning. She gave him a small smile.  

“I’m Emma.”

“Nice to meet you, Emma, I’m Killian,” he stuck out his hand.

“I heard what your name was earlier,” she took his hand and they shook.

“Well yeah, but Mum says that whenever someone introduces themselves to you, you have to say your name back. It’s a rule.”

“That’s a dumb rule.” He shrugged.

“I don’t make the rules, I just follow them or Mum gets mad.” She gave him a look and he just smirked at her.

They walked home together, plotting different pranks she could pull on Greg if she needed to (or “cuz she could” as Killian would say). He cracked a joke or two at Greg’s expense and she was laughing so hard that they had to stop at one point. She forgot all about her mission to get home as soon as possible. When they reached her house, she invited him to come in so they could play.

“I’m 11 years old, we do not play,” he answered.

“Oh come on, everyone plays,” she said back, incredulous.

“No they don’t.”

“Do too.”

“Do not.”

“Do--”

“Emma,” she looked up to see her dad coming up the drive. He looked at them, smiling when he saw Killian.

“Hi Mr. Nolan,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Hello, Killian. Always nice to see you.”

They got in a grown up conversation about Killian’s parents and brother, while Emma just stared at the flowers in their garden.

“Emma, you need to get inside, I know you have homework and Killian I know you need to get home. Your mom is probably worried,” Mr. Nolan said.

“It’s okay, she’s always worried,” Killian said, and her dad chuckled, turning to his daughter.

“You can say goodbye, but then come inside.” Emma nodded and he went back in the house.Emma smiled at Killian.

“We should be friends,” she said.

“Friends?”

“Yeah, don’t you know what friends are?”

“I know what friends are,” he said indignantly.

“Well?”

Killian looked up like he was contemplating.

“Fine, we can be friends, but only when we’re not at school. I can’t be seen around a third grader--”

“I’m almost in fourth grade!” she snapped.

“Regardless, my friends can’t see me around you or it’ll ruin things. So we’ll be outside of school friends. Agreed?” She rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, agreed. But we have to make it official,” she said, proud that she had used a big word like he had. She stuck out her hand, pinkie up.

“What’re you doing?”

“Pinkie Promise. This is how we become friends. Duh,” she said. She had seen it on TV a million times.  

“I’m not doing that. It’s too girly.”

“You have to, it’s a rule.”

“I’m not doing it,” he insisted.

“You said you have to follow rules or your mom gets mad.”

“Yeah but you’re not my mum are you?”

“Pleeeeassse? I’ll keep annoying you until you do it. Pleeeeaasssee?” she kept saying please, drawing the word out longer and longer with each iteration until he finally caved.

“Alright, alright, just be quiet already!” he snapped at her. He hooked his pinkie with hers, letting go after an instant. He shoved his hand in his back pocket and he looked around to make sure no one had seen. 

“Well, Emma, we’re friends now and my pride is gone. Happy?”

“Yep!” she answered, proud of herself. He smiled a little bit, backing up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before turning and walking toward his house.

Emma grinned. Finally, a friend.  

***

Mary-Margaret Nolan walked through her front door, breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a tough day, what with everything that had happened with her daughter and that vile boy Greg (Mary-Margaret had always found something off with him) and then having to stay late to grade homework and come up with worksheets for the two to do for the next two weeks, she was exhausted. But she perked up a little bit when she saw that David had made dinner and Emma was setting the table.

“Hi honey,” David said, coming over to her and kissing her forehead after she hung her coat on the rack.

She smiled. This was her favorite part of the day, coming home and being greeted by her family. The two of them walked into the kitchen, with David telling Emma to go ahead and start eating, that they had something to get from the kitchen and they would be right out. Emma just shrugged and did what she was told.

When they got in the kitchen, Mary-Margaret leaned against the counter with her arms crossed. David stood across from her by the fridge.

“I’m assuming you heard what happened at recess today?” she asked him. He nodded.

“Yeah. Mrs. Morris called home, but even if she hadn’t done that, it’s all over the town now,” he said grimly. She sighed, pinching her nose bridge with her thumb and middle finger before looking back at him.

“David, we can’t just let this continue. If she’s like this as a child, what is she going to be like as a teenager, or an adult? I mean, is it something we’re doing? Is it something we’re _not_ doing? Are we bad parents?!” she was almost to the point of hysterics by now. David crossed to her and stood close, cupping her neck with his hands, his thumbs at her jaw line.

“We’re not bad parents. Bad parents would just leave this be, but that’s not what we’re doing. You did the right thing today, by standing your ground and giving her the same punishment as Greg. That’s going to help her learn and grow, and that’s what we’re doing, helping her grow which is what parents are supposed to do. Besides, I don’t think we’ll have much of a problem anymore.”

Mary-Margaret perked up a bit, quirking her eyebrow.

“What makes you say that?” she asked. David leaned back a bit from her.

“I saw her talking outside with that boy Killian from down the street. I think he’ll be a good influence.” Mary-Margaret’s expression changed from slightly confused to outright shocked.

“A good influence?!” she said incredulously, “That boy is nothing but trouble, with all his pranks and nonsense. I’m pretty sure he skips school but even when he’s there he is constantly talking back to and disrespecting his teachers. I’m surprised he hasn’t started stealing yet. And oh goodness, Mrs. Jones. You should hear her. He has given her nothing but grief since they came over from Ireland. She always says that he was so well behaved when he was over there, but now everything has changed for her. That poor woman.” She put her hand on her chest. David regarded her for a moment, a bit confused by her rant.

“Right,” he gave a nod before continuing, “Regardless of that, he’ll be a friend for her and you and I both know that she hasn’t had many of those. I think it’s one of the reasons she acts out.”

Mary-Margaret calmed down enough to contemplate what he said for a moment. Emma had always been a sweet girl, but a bit rough around the edges. She was lonely. Mary-Margaret could see that in her eyes every day at school, on the playground, in the classroom. People treated you differently when you were the teacher’s kid. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to make friends, Mary-Margaret had seen many times that she had, but something had always turned them off in the end and none of them could figure out what it was.

“You’re right, this will be good for her,” she mused as she held her husband’s gaze, “but I just hope he doesn’t rub off on her in a bad way.”

“He won’t. Emma has one of the strongest personalities I have ever seen. She just hasn’t gotten the chance to express it to anyone.”

Mary-Margaret snorted at that.

“You’re right. Now let’s go talk to her and ‘help her grow’ outside of the classroom,” she said. David smiled, taking her hand a grabbing salad tongs out of a drawer. Mary-Margaret gave him a quizzical look.

“What are you getting that for? We’re not having salad.”

“We’ve been in here for almost ten minutes, we have to make our lie somewhat convincing.”

“She’ll see right through it. She always does,” Mary-Margaret stated grimly. They had never been able to get away with a lie with Emma for too long. After all, she had figured out at the age of four that Santa Claus didn’t actually exist and had seen through all the other lies that parents normally told their kids.

“Well then it’s just for show. She’ll just have to go with it,” David answered. They both chuckled, squeezed hands and walked to the dinner table together.

 

 


End file.
